


it's your right to hurt me baby, but love isn't cruel

by reptilianraven



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: (at least i THINK it's a romantic comedy???), Aliens, Canon-Typical Violence, Or The One Where Everybody On The Skeld Is A Murderer, Other, Romantic Comedy, extremely tropey and kitschy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26661874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reptilianraven/pseuds/reptilianraven
Summary: Red laughs again, and the sound is something Bee is starting to get addicted to. Like wind chimes in a thunderstorm, fragile and soft around the wind. Red and Bee walk towards the entrance of the shuttle, and their hands brush against each other. It sends a spark up Bee’s body, the fact that they’re in bulky spacesuits notwithstanding, and Bee lets themself smile at the pleasant and familiar warmth in their chest.Bee was always a fast one, when it came to infatuation, and maybe a happy little crush is just the thing to get them through their first mission.Their first mission...to kill all the crewmates on the Skeld. Including Red.Awnuts.-Bee (or, er, Blue, that’s what they’re supposed to be called, on the Skeld) is an alien who has to kill a bunch of humans. Of course their heart complicates things.Of course.
Relationships: Blue (Among Us)/Red (Among Us), Imposter (Among Us)/Another Imposter (Among Us), Nonbinary Alien/Woman
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	it's your right to hurt me baby, but love isn't cruel

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVENT EVEN PLAYED THIS GAME!!!!! 
> 
> that being said, like 95% of this is stuff i made up completely, because i did google this game and theres no lore of any sort, so like, free real estate. 
> 
> anyway enjoy what is effectively original lesbian science fiction under the thin guise of fanfic

[Silence for a few seconds before the sound of somebody tapping the holorecorder]

NARRATOR: Uhh, testing, testing [coughs], testing. One two three? That’s what people say right?...Who am I asking? Just. Just stick to the script. Alright, [clears throat].

In the moments between 6:00am to 11:32am on October 21, 2348 (KAV 09 Standard Time), several things of infinitesimal universal importance happen. 

At the edge of the KAV 09 star system, the planet of Meborus—a wonderful rocky planet with bright blue oceans, thriving continents and countries—spins peacefully on its own axis. Their sun begins to rise for one half of the planet, and Sragaths of all shapes and sizes begin to wake in their homes as the light streams in through the windows.

Dear listener, when I say “all shapes and sizes” I do mean that literally. Sragaths are a shapeshifting species, capable of shifting both themselves and other objects they touch into any shape, color, texture, or build, so long as the total mass stays the same. 

The fluidity of their form influenced their core beliefs very early on in history. Ancient Sragath philosophers often questioned their ability to change into any shape, wondering what in this universe truly was subject to change and what had to be kept stable. Sragath philosopher Yuartu Kr’ukre posited that Sragaths were put on this world to be ever changing, but that in return for this gift, we had to uphold strict views on the concepts of balance and justice. Change, without these things, would be chaos. Kr’ukre’s views, after they died, would then go on to start the most dominant cultural belief system of the Sragath people—

[NARRATOR pauses talking. Somebody else is vaguely heard in the recording, conversing with the NARRATOR in hushed tones]

NARRATOR: “Too much history”? It’s important!

UNKNOWN: [inaudible].

NARRATOR: They can look it up, yeah, but like—

UNKNOWN: [inaudible]

NARRATOR: It’s our story but it needs _context_ —

UNKNOWN: [inaudible]

NARRATOR: [laughs]. Asshole. Fine, I’ll cut to the chase. Let me just skip past, uhhh, Sragath cultural beliefs, Sragath coming of age ceremony, Sragath cuisine—Okay, yeah, why did I put that?—aaaand here we are. [coughs].

In the moments between 11:28am to 11:32am on October 21, 2348 (KAV 09 Standard Time), several things of infinitesimal universal importance happen. 

In a cozy little household, a 20 year old Sragath finally gets their Assignment on their holopad. 

This is the assignment that they will embark on for 5 years. The assignment that changes them from a fledgling Sragath to an adult one. The assignment that will teach them the importance of balance and justice for the rest of their lives.

The young Sragath opens the message and reads their Assignment.

In big black text, the Assignment reads: EXECUTIONER.

“Fuck,” The Sragath says.

-

**Much, much earlier**

The shuttle is just as busted up as Bee expected it to be. It’s bulky and small and rusted at the edges and Bee would be worried if they didn’t know that this ship’s only job was to ferry five people onto the Skeld, which was already up in this planet’s orbit. Any further, they think, and this shuttle would probably just implode in a crunchy and fatalicious disaster.

Totally great thoughts to be having about the spacecraft they’re literally about to board.

“Get it together, Bee,” They whisper to themself, looking at the other crewmates already walking onto the shuttle. “You can do this. You can _do this_.”

“Do what?” Somebody says behind Bee, scaring the absolute bejeebers out of them.

“AAH!” Bee yelps, turning around. 

Behind them is another crewmate in a red spacesuit. Bee can’t see their face through their helmet, but they’ve got a nametag on their chest that says ‘ROBIN RUIZ. HUMAN. SHE/HER.’

“Woah,” Robin says, putting her hands up placatingly. Should Bee call her Robin in her head? Is that too personal? Maybe she should just call her Ruiz? Or maybe Ma’am? God, Bee should’ve studied up more on human customs.

“Sorry, sorry,” Bee says. “You just—surprised me.”

“It’s cool,” Robin/Ruiz/Ma’am says. Her helmet tilts down, reading Bee’s own nametag that says ‘BEE. HUMAN. THEY/THEM.’ They try not to make it obvious that one of those three things is a lie. “Bee, huh? No last name?”

“I’m from a really small Terran colony in KAV 09,” Bee says, just like they rehearsed in the mirror for the past few months of preparatory training for this. “Last names weren’t really a thing over there.”

“Oh shit, you’re a Kavvy?” Robin says, shocked. “You’re far from home.”

“Yeah, haha, and you’re—Robin,” Bee says awkwardly, not knowing _what else to say_. 

“That’s me,” She nods. “But on the Skeld, you’ll just call me Red and I’ll just call you Blue.”

“Huh?”

Robin laughs again, and while the sound is muffled by the helmet’s radio, Bee can already find themself thinking it’s a really nice laugh. “I take it this is your first time on a Skeld?”

Bee feels their chosen form warm up at the face. “Am I that obvious?”

“If not knowing the unspoken Skeld color rule didn’t tip me off, the fact that you’ve been standing outside the shuttle for the past fifteen minutes just kind of vibrating and talking to yourself would definitely be a flag of some kind.”

Bee groans. “Just kill me now.”

Robin goes silent at that, staring at Bee for a moment. Bee wonders if they said something wrong when Robin—Red pats them on the shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about it, Blue,” Red says. “I’ve been on a bunch of Skelds a bunch of times, and I’m willing to teach you everything you gotta know.”

“Really?” Bee says, kinda awed at Red’s kindness. 

“Yeah,” Red squeezes Bee’s shoulder and oh, that’s very nice. “First lesson. We gotta get on that nightmare of a shuttle.”

“Oh god, this is terrible already.”

Red laughs again, and the sound is something Bee is starting to get addicted to. Like wind chimes in a thunderstorm, fragile and soft around the wind. Red and Bee walk towards the entrance of the shuttle, and their hands brush against each other. It sends a spark up Bee’s body, the fact that they’re in bulky spacesuits notwithstanding, and Bee lets themself smile at the pleasant and familiar warmth in their chest. 

Bee was always a fast one, when it came to infatuation, and maybe a happy little crush is just the thing to get them through their first mission.

Their first mission...to kill all the crewmates on the Skeld. Including Red.

Aw _nuts_. 

Bee gets into the shuttle with Red. Yellow, Green, and White are already seated and strapped in. Bee and Red go to their seats and buckle up while Red makes idle conversation with Bee as the shuttle takes off—Red is from the first extraterrestrial human colony, the one on Mars, and she’s working her way up through supply run jobs to maybe get enough creds to pilot a ship of her own in a few years, maybe see the stars—and Bee tries their absolute best to listen and not seem like they’re mega zoning out because of the whole “I may have to kill you,” thing.

The ride to the shuttle is a quiet one punctuated by truly horrifying mechanical heaves and groans from the engine and Red’s companionable chatter. It seems the other crewmates, Yellow, Green, and White, aren’t as talkative as Red is, and that honestly makes Bee feel a lot better about having to kill them.

Well, that and the fact that Yellow, Green, and White are notorious serial killers who have been murdering innocents for years. 

Bee sighs to themself quietly. They’d seen the files their Assignment Advisers had given them and it’s...not good, very bad indeed. Yellow, Green, and White individually have been killing all kinds of people from all different kinds of species, and ever since the respective authorities caught wind of their deeds, they all ran to the stars for safety, finding jobs on low profile ships like the Skeld to pass the time before they could all resurface. 

It was Bee’s job to be Executioner. It was Bee’s job to restore balance and justice by eliminating those who harmed others. It was Bee’s job to make sure nobody but themself left the Skeld alive. This is what they have to do.

The only problem is Red.

And not just because Bee’s stupid heart decided to crush on her roughly half an hour ago!

Bee didn’t get any file for Red. Bee has a feeling that Red was a last minute addition, but Bee has no idea whether or not she’s a last minute addition because she’s another crazed murderer or if she was just added onto the crew because of normal logistical stuff. This job is hard enough, having to kill people, but now Bee is in a straight up moral dilemma over not knowing whether or not Red is a murderer.

“You doin’ alright?” Red nudges Bee with their elbow.

“Fine! Totally fine,” Bee says, looking over to Red. “Just thinking my thoughts!”

“Your thoughts seem to be making you super anxious,” Red points down to where Bee’s leg is bouncing up and down.

“Super anxious is just my default mode,” Bee says, and oh geez, that was dorky. Please do something cool, they think to themself, to make up for this.

Bee shots up two finger guns at Red.

Red laughs, “You’re cute.”

There’s that warm feeling again. Think bad thoughts, Bee. Think about _murder_. “Y-you haven’t even seen my face.”

“Don’t need to,” Red says, leaning back in their seat. “It’s your vibes.”

“My vibes?”

“Yeah, your energy,” Red gestures to, well, all of Bee. “Like how I give off ‘I’ll bite you vibes’.”

“You don’t give off those vibes,” Bee says. “You give off really nice vibes. You’ve been really kind to me.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, Blue,” Red says. Bee isn’t good at reading voices, but they can definitely recognize a twinge of sadness in Red’s words. 

Before they can ask Red if they’re feeling okay, the shuttle violently jerks to the side. Bee lets out a soft ‘oof’ as they’re caught by their seatbelts. Above them, the ship’s autopilot taps into the speakers and says in a robotic voice. “SHUTTLE HAS DOCKED AT THE SKELD. PLEASE DEPART FROM THE SHUTTLE.”

“It’s showtime, Blue,” Red says as the shuttle’s door opens into where it’s connected to the Skeld.

“Right…” Bee takes a deep breath. “Showtime.”

-

Here’s the thing:

The Skeld is on a supply run from the planet Azura to the Icaria Space Station. Travel time will take seven Earth days and Bee, in that timeframe, Bee needs to kill everybody on the Skeld and also avoid being ejected.

Not that getting ejected would kill Bee. Sragaths are hardy creatures who can survive in the vacuum of space pretty easily by just shifting into furniture (Bee likes being a couch), but they’d really rather they don’t get ejected at all. Can you imagine? Their first mission on their Assignment and they fuck up? It would be _so embarrassing_.

Bee has a plan. It was required, of course. They wrote a 50 page plan and submitted it to their Assignment Adviser. Their paper was very well researched and well written, if they do say so themself, complete with contingencies and flowcharts and quite a lot of footnotes about human blood loss. They did not want to get this Assignment, but they had to roll with the punches, and roll they goddamn did. The simplified plan goes as such:

At some point in the first two days, Bee will kill Yellow. This is because Yellow is the most charismatic; she has a record of swaying people to her thoughts and opinions. Somebody with that kind of tactical advantage needs to be taken out immediately. 

At some point the next two days, Bee will kill Green. This is because Green has a tendency to get violent when he feels threatened.He needs to be eliminated before his temper reaches dangerous levels. 

In the remaining three days, Bee will kill White. White is a loner who keeps to himself and rarely ever acts out, except when he kills people. Based on his file, White poses the least threat, behaviorally, and thus Bee will save him for last.

Bee’s paper planned for just about any unexpected outcome they could think of while still being straightforward and goal focused. Their Assignment Adviser had praised Bee and approved the plan, but now as Bee paces back and forth in Electrical, Bee thinks their Assignment Adviser should’ve flunked them so hard they’d tear a hole in space itself because of the whole Red Situation.

Logically and morally, if Bee wants to find out whether or not Red is a murderer, Bee will have to do some on the job research of their own. This means that Red needs to be alive for the longest possible amount of time so that Bee can figure her out and thus make the right decision. Easy peasy right? All Bee has to do is...keep making subtle conversation with Red and somehow learn if she’s meant to be executed along with the others or if she’s an innocent, _all the while_ not tipping her off. 

Bee thunks their head against the wall. 

Repeatedly. 

“Uh, you okay?” Somebody says from the entrance to Electrical.

Speak of the gift horse.

Bee turns their head to see Red leaning against the doorway and looking really cool. She’s got her arms crossed and she’s leaning on one shoulder and even though Bee can’t see her face through the helmet, Bee can easily imagine that Red has like, a smirk on her face or something. The kind of expression cool people have. 

“Red! Funny to see you here!” Bee says. They try to follow Red’s lead and lean on the wall in a cool manner. Bee is 99% sure they just look like they’re slouching unattractively. 

“Funny why?” Red says, amused.

“Funny because!—” Oh, fuck, Bee is bad at improv lying. Please, say something that’s the truth but not the whole truth. “—because I was just thinking about you!”

Nailed it.

“Maybe I’ve got a sixth sense for when people are thinking about me,” Red shrugs. “You need any help with the light checks?”

“Not at all, just—” Bee stutters, trying to get ahold of this conversation. They take a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking in on you, ‘course,” Red says easily.

“Uh, why?”

“Because,” Red practically saunters over to Bee, so cool, and stops right in front of them. “You’re interesting to me.”

“Uhhhh,” Bee says again, louder. “Why?”

“Dunno,” Red puts her hands in her pockets. “Just wondering what a Kavvy like you is doing in bumfuck nowhere on a Skeld supply run. I told you my story. Tell me yours?”

Deep breaths, Bee. Backstory is on page 3 of your plan. 

“My parents are farmers, back on the colony,” Bee says. “They were born there, was raised there, will likely die there, and while they’re fine with that, I feel like maybe their lives would be better on a planet that's less dust and more fertile, y’know? I did my training for space excursions at the local community center and signed up for the first open job, and that was all the way here. Not a very interesting story.”

“It’s actually very interesting, Blue—” Red says, stepping closer, oh god, what what what. Red _places her hand on the wall next to Bee’s head_. Bee squeaks, feeling their heart pump faster. These spacesuits have pulse monitors on the control panel on the front, so Red can see clearly just how fast Bee’s heart is pumping. “—because it sounds rehearsed.”

Bee feels as if their heart stops beating, but their pulse monitor says otherwise, says that their pulse is fast and strong.

Red leans into Blue’s space, their helmets clinking together. “You’re not like the rest of us, are you?”

“I—” Bee’s done, Bee’s been found out, Bee’s going to get ejected and they’re going to have to spend an embarrassing amount of time in the cold vacuum of space as a couch, a couch that failed their first mission _within the first five hours of being on the ship_. “I’m—”

The Skeld’s intercom blares an alarm, loud and screeching. Red jerks back as Bee yelps.

Bee looks up at the speakers in the room. “What’s going on?”

“Green, here.” The voice over the intercom says, steely and suspicious. “Emergency meeting at the Cafeteria. _Now_.”

The intermission cuts, and Red and Bee are left in Electrical in silence. 

“We’ll continue this conversation later, Blue,” Red says as she starts walking out of Electrical, gesturing for Bee to follow her. “Now, we gotta go get to your second lesson of Skeld basics; the meetings.”

Bee, confused and nervous and so, so lost, follows Red for the lack of anything better to do.

When they get there, Green and White are already seated at the center table. Green has her hands on the table, yelling loudly, vitriol in her voice, while White is silent, simply sitting at the table with his hands clasped together. As Bee and Red arrive at the table, Bee catches the end of Green’s sentence.

“—’I was in my quarters’, do you have any idea how fucking suspicious that sounds?” Green says. 

“It’s the truth,” White says calmly.

“It’s a shoddy alibi, that’s what—”

“Anybody wanna tell Blue and I what this meeting is all about,” Red says, sounding bored and in control and in control. “Or are we supposed to just be able to figure it out through context.”

Green whips his head to look at Red and Bee, and Bee shrinks in their seat.

“Why don’t _you_ tell _me_ ,” Green says, leaning to get closer to Red. “Where were you?”

“In Electrical with Blue,” Red shrugs.

“T-that’s right,” Bee says. “We were—talking. About. Things.”

“Green,” Red says, voice sharp. “What’s this meeting about?”

Green stares them both down, but settles back onto his seat. 

Green says, “Yellow’s been killed.”

“He’s been WHAT!?” Bee says, their heart beating faster.

Oh god, now everybody’s looking at them. Their rabbitting heart rate out in the open for everybody to see. 

“That sure is a violent reaction,” Green says, leaning into Bee’s space. “Wanna tell us why you’re so shocked?”

Bee tries to find words, but all their words are terrible, mostly along the lines of “somebody killed Yellow _before I was supposed to????_ ” Not exactly something that’s going to make them sound very trustworthy.

God, Bee didn’t even want this terrible job in the first place, they want the floor to open up and eat them right now.

While Bee flounders, Red leans over Bee’s shoulder to flick Green on the helmet.

Green rears back. “Hey, what!—”

“Lay off Blue, they’re a Freshie,” Red says, defending Bee. “It’s their first time on a Skeld and they were probably just expecting a normal quiet supply run, not a fucking murder mystery.” 

“That is very true!” Bee says, feeling like a very anxious sandwich filling, with Red at their back and Green at their front. “This really really isn’t something I was expecting.” Not a lie.

Green is silent for a few moments before he finally moves out of Bee’s space. He crosses his arms. “I still don't buy that you guys were ‘just talking’. What were you two talking about?”

Bee wants to shift into a pile of bricks. Green keeps saying shit that Bee doesn’t know how to answer. 

Fortunately, Red inexplicably comes to the rescue again.

“We were talking,” Red says, laying an arm around Bee’s shoulders and pulling them close. “About sharing personal quarters. Must I continue with details, or will you fucking mind your own business?”

Okay, nevermind, this isn’t a rescue from Red so much the galaxy’s most embarrassing possible diversion in the history of ever. 

“Okay, yeah, stop right there, no details, oh my god,” Green says hurriedly.

“Are we voting anybody off the Skeld,” White says, cool and collected. “Because if not, I’d like to get back to my tasks.”

Green sighs, frustrated. “I guess we can’t pin it on White because there’s no evidence for or against him, it’s not me because you all heard me clearing asteroids for the past hour, and it’s not Blue or Red because they were together probably getting their rocks off—”

“No rocks!” Bee finds their voice, miraculously, given that they feel like they’re actively dying. “No rocks were getting off!”

Green ignores them. “So. Guess somebody died and we can’t do anything about it.”

“Alright then,” White says, standing. “See ya guys around.” And he leaves.

“Well,” Red grabs Bee’s hand and pulls them standing along with her. “We’re going to do tasks together.”

“No details!” Green hisses.

“THERE ARE NO DETAILS THAT NEED SAYING,” Bee screeches as Red pulls them out of the Cafeteria. “NO ROCKS! NONE AT ALL!”

“Seriously, don’t wanna know!”

“Kay, bye, Green!” Red yells back. “Loved talking to you!”

And then they duck into the halls, Red leading them to one of the quarters, probably hers. Red lets go of Bee’s hand as she inputs the code to the room, and Bee blurts out, “Why did you defend me?”

“Because you didn’t kill Yellow,” Red says easily.

“How are you so sure?” Bee pushes, ready to risk it a little bit to figure out what the hell is going on. “There’s a vent in Electrical. I could’ve.”

“You didn’t though,” Red says as the door to her quarters slides open. “Because I killed Yellow.”

A pause. 

Bee takes a step back.

But doesn’t step any further.

“Here’s the deal,” Red says, leaning against the doorway. “I think you wanna know who I am, and I wanna know who you are. We can both get our answers if we have a nice, civil conversation in my quarters.”

“What’s stopping you from killing me, when we’re in there?” Bee says, feeling brave.

“The same reason stopping you, I guess,” Red says. “The want to know the real story.”

“Your vibes—” Bee uses Red’s term. “—are super confusing right now.”

“Yours are still cute. Mysterious, but cute,” Red extends her hand. A hand that has killed. A hand open for Bee to take. “Come in?”

Bee, despite everything in their mind telling them how bad of an idea this is, can’t be swayed by the desire inside of them that wants to know more.

Bee takes their hand.

-

Red’s quarters look exactly like Bee’s quarters, exactly like all the quarters on the ship, and yet, as the door slides shut behind the both of them, Bee can’t help but feel like they’re seeing a part of Red that nobody else gets to see. Alone together, Bee feels like the rest of the ship shimmers into nothingness. All that exists is them, Red, and the mysteries they’re both keeping from each other.

The mysteries they’re allegedly going to bring to light.

Red’s hands go to the release button of her helmet, and Bee makes an “eep” sound and turns to look at the door. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Red asks, amused. Bee can’t see her, but they can hear the soft _fssssh_ of the helmet disengaging, they can hear Red’s voice clearer, not through the radio of the helmet. “I took off my helmet, not all of my clothes.”

“I don’t know!” Bee says. “This just seems—really personal? I don’t know.”

“You’re not a human, are you?” Red says. 

Bee laughs. “Again, am I that obvious?”

“Extremely,” Red says. “I promise you that seeing another human’s face isn’t illicit or overly personal. I took my helmet off so that you could see my face and trust that I won’t be lying to you.”

Bee scoffs. “Creatures with faces can lie all the time.”

“True,” Red sighs. “But I’m trying here, Blue. I really am.”

The tone of Red’s voice, dogged down with exhaustion, makes Bee turn around to look at her. 

“Oh,” Bee says, taking in Red’s face. She’s got brown skin and light brown hair tied into a ponytail, and she’s looking right at Bee with eyes that don’t seem like a killer’s. Her gaze is soft and honest in the way that reminds Bee of how smaller stars try their best to shine in the black. Bee doesn’t know how to articulate any of this. Doesn’t know if articulating these thoughts is the best course of action. So Bee does what they think is the just thing to do; they say what’s on their mind. “You’re beautiful.”

“O-Oh. Thanks,” Red smiles, surprised. “I’d say you’re beautiful back, but I don’t know what you look like, so that can wait.”

“That can wait.” Bee nods, taking a seat next to Red. “How are we going to do this? We both want answers.”

“We can alternate,” Red’s smile turns into a bit of a smirk. “That way, we’re always on equal footing. I ask a question, you answer, and then the other way around.”

“Why do you get to go first?”

“Because I already told you earlier that I killed Yellow, duh. It’s only fair I go first.”

Damn it, she has a point. “Fine. Go on then.”

“If you’re not a human,” Red says, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “What are you?”

Bee takes a deep breath, and when they exhale, the truth comes out. “I’m a Sragath.”

“Knew it,” Red grins. “The whole Kavvy thing totally gave you away, dude.”

“Please don’t tell me where in my plan I messed up, I’d really rather shift into a shoe.” Bee groans, flopping backwards onto Red’s bed as they think of a question. “Why did you kill Yellow?”

“Because I was hired to,” Red lies down next to Bee, turning so that she’s facing them. Bee can see her in the corner of their own helmet. “I’m a mercenary. Employers arrange for my victims to be on a Skeld then they put me on the roster and I take everybody out. Given that, am I supposed to kill you?”

“I don’t know,” Bee says, feeling oddly calm. “Am I supposed to kill _you_?”

“I don’t know,” Red says, frowning. “I mean, I don’t know much about Sragaths, but I think I know enough to figure that you’re here to restore peace and rainbows—”

“Balance and justice.”

“—yeah, that, by getting rid of some real nasty cockroach motherfuckers,” Red says. “I know that Yellow, Green, and White are the worst of the worst, and that’s why I was hired, then you came into the roster outta nowhere and harshed my groove. I don’t know, maybe I am somebody you’re supposed to kill too.” Red smiles self deprecatingly. “I’ve been doing this job for a while, I’m definitely not innocent.”

“If you’re not innocent,” Bee says. “Why didn’t you kill me first? I was a loose end.”

Red turns, looking up at the ceiling. “You didn’t seem like you deserved it.”

“Who gets to say who deserves what?”

“My employer, mostly. Who gets to say Sragaths have the right to kill others?”

“Er, older Sragaths, mostly.”

Red snorts. “This sure is a mess.”

“Yeah,” Bee turns to their side, looking at Red. “What do we do now?”

“Can I answer that with a question?”

Bee laughs. “You already did, but sure, go for it.”

“You ever killed anybody before?”

“Nope.”

Red’s eyes crinkle a little bit at the edges when she smiles this time and says, “Would you like to learn how?”

“What,” Bee says as their mind processes that question. “What?”

“I was totally serious when I told you I’m willing to teach you everything you need to know about being on a Skeld. This is just a new sub-lesson: murder.”

“ _Genuinely what?_ ”

“Think about it, Blue,” Red says. “I don’t want to kill you, you don’t know whether or not to kill me, we’re at a standstill, but we still have the same mission. I can teach you the ropes of how to kill somebody while you make up your mind on if the universe would be better off with me out of the picture.”

“What do you gain from this?” Bee squints, well aware that Red can’t see it. “What’s your ulterior motive.”

“Honestly? I think it’d be fun,” Red shrugs. “I don’t see a lot of fun, in my job, and I’d like a change of pace.”

“So you’re offering to teach me how to kill people because...you’re bored.”

“Yep.”

“Has anybody ever told you,” Bee says. “That you’re bizarre?”

“You’d be the first to survive.” Red sits up and Bee follows. Red extends her hand out. “So what do you say? Wanna learn from a pro?”

Bee thinks about everything they’ve learned about balance and justice. They think about how, at the core of things, Sragaths just want to do what’s right and keep things in order. They think about what they want, what they truly want, past all the culture and teachings and plans. 

The answer to that, to what they want, is simple.

They want to spend more time with Red.

Bee takes Red’s hand and shakes it.

“Let’s do this,” Bee says, feeling warmth bloom in their chest.

“Hell yeah,” Red grins and claps her hands together. “Time to kill Green, then.”

“What, now!?”

“No time like the present!”

“I was planning on killing him on days three and four of the journey, I had it written in my paper and everything—”

“You wrote a paper? On _murder plans_?”

“Okay, you know what, yeah, okay, let’s go kill Green, just please stop smiling at me like that, I don’t know whether or not to be pissed at the condescension or do something stupid like call you beautiful again.”

Red laughs, windchimes in a storm. Maybe not windchimes though. Still metal, but much sharper. A knife’s edge against the air, more like it. It says something about Bee, that this knife’s edge still sends a spark into their heart. That Red’s smile is starting to look more like what it really is, a baring of teeth, and yet Bee’s face still warms up.

As Red puts on her helmet and opens the door of her quarters, Bee follows her and hopes that knife doesn’t end up in their back.

Hopes that those teeth don’t sink into the flesh of their throat.

-

Red and Bee go to security to figure out where the rest of the crew is. White is busy doing power maintenance in the Lower Engine and all the way on the other side of the ship, Green is Navigation rechecking the ship’s course. 

“Oh, this is basically perfect, Blue,” Red says from where she’s leaning over Blue’s shoulder. “He’s alone and White is far away and it’s pretty unlikely he’ll walk in and interrupt us.”

“Why do you sound so excited?” Bee asks. “This is your job, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be used to this by now?”

“Well, yeah, but this is the first time I’ve got a protege,” Red replies. “Makes things exciting. Let’s walk and talk?”

The both of them walk and talk. 

“So, what’s your preferred method of killing?” Red says companionably as they walk through the halls.

“Very creepy question, but I must admit that the slicing in half is...very satisfying.” Bee says, vaguely aware of the fact that this conversation topic is off the fucking walls morbid. 

“Oh shit, are we soulmates?” Red says, pleased, as Blue feels their face warm up again. “I love slicing! You got a laser garrotte?” 

“I don’t need one,” Bee says, smiling. “I’m a Sragath, remember? Myself and anything I touch, I can shift.”

“I’ve never been more excited to see a murder in my life,” Red tells them enthusiastically. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“You know, I thought you were cool—”

“Hey, I _am_ cool.”

“—but now that we’re talking about homicide, you’re like? Really dorky.” Bee feels brave, so they bump their shoulder against Red’s. “It’s cute.”

“I—Uh—” Red stutters, and oh, Bee gets why Red does this whole thing now. This whole flirting thing. It feels very good indeed. Red coughs. “—Thanks. So, slicing?”

“Yeah. Without having to borrow mass from any other objects, I can shift my arm into a sharp blade and just.” Bee swipes their arm through the air. “Whoosh.”

“Cool, so I don’t have to give you pointers on the killing itself,” Red hums. “Just gotta teach you the peripherals.”

“What peripherals?” Bee laughs. “You make it sound so complicated. All I have to do is fatally wound him, and it’s over. You humans are really fragile, so it’s easy.”

“Yeah, yeah, but if you don’t find ways to make this whole thing enjoyable, you’re going to feel like a galactic accountant while your arms deep in somebody else’s blood. It’d be miserable. You have to know how to make an entrance, how to say smooth lines, how to have some tense before-the-kill banter, that kind of stuff”

“Such a dork,” Bee says. “You are such a dork.”

“Are you going to take my advice or not, Blue?”

“Fine, fine, you’re the expert here.” Bee rolls their eyes. “Tell me how to make an entrance, Red.”

Through the helmets, Bee can’t see Red’s face, but they know she’s smiling. They just do.

“Okay,” Red says. “Here’s what you do—”

-

“Hey, Green,” Bee says, walking into Navigation. 

Green doesn’t turn around, just keeps on watching the main console, but his head does twitch to the side. 

“What are you doing here?” Green asks. 

“Just finished checking the wires right outside and I wanted to check in on you.”

Green scoffs. “Freshie, on a Skeld, nobody checks in on anybody. I’m fine.”

“Are you though? I wonder how it must feel like to live with blood on your hands.”

Green turns around in the chair and looks at Bee who is standing at the entrance.

“Who the fuck are you?” Green hisses. 

“Me?” Bee says, faux innocent, trying to feel their vibes, and stuff. “I’m nobody. But you? You’re wanted in countless galaxies for your crimes.”

“And what the fuck will you do about it, Freshie?” Green, from his belt, pulls the handle of a sonic sword. He presses the button, and the blade shimmers out of the handle with a soft _vwoomf_. “Vote to eject me? I didn’t kill Yellow.”

“You didn’t,” Bee says, walking closer to Green slowly, slowly. Let the tension build up. Green steps back until he’s right against the main console. “But you’ve killed many others. You have upset the balance and justice of the universe.”

“What the fuck are you talking abou—”

“I, Brxsyia Bl’forza, am your Executioner.”

“Literally what bullshit is coming out of your mouth right now?”

“Be nice!” Red hollers from where she’s hidden in the hallway. “It’s their first fucking time, you fuckwad!”

“Red!” Bee sighs. “You _told_ me you were going to let me handle this.”

“He was being a dick to you!”

“I was going to turn it around!”

“Hello?” Green says, confused and pissed off that Bee stopped paying attention to him for like three seconds, geez. “Am I still fucking here, or should I give you lovebirds a moment.”

“Sorry about that!” Red yells. “Go for it, Blue!”

“You gonna kill me, Freshie?” Green snorts, readying his hold on his sonic sword. “That’s _adorable_.”

“Oh, I am, am I?” Bee says, opening and closing their fists, letting their body do what it is Sragaths do best.

They shift.

Their left arm ripples into blackness and hardens, elongating and changing shape from fingers to shadows, shadows capable of being anything at all in this universe. They pull her arm into the shape they want, a large, obsidian blade. Green watches this and doesn’t move, doesn’t talk, but Bee can see the tremble on the hold of his sonic sword.

Bee can see his fear.

Bee braces their legs against the ground and says, “With the power vested in me by the Sragaths of Meborus—”

Green charges, sword drawn.

Bee swings their arms smoothly from one side of Green all the way to the other side of him, “—I restore the balance and justice you have broken!”

Green stops in his tracks.

His body makes a grotesque, horrible squelching sound as blood trickles from a line going straight through his torso. His top half begins sliding off of his bottom half, a puzzle piece wrenched away from the rest of him, and falls to the floor in a sickening _plop_ of blood and gore as the bottom half falls to the ground as well. Blood begins to pool from and around the sliced halves, organs and bone open to the air in a way human bodies are never supposed to be. 

Bee shifts their arms back to human and spacesuit-ed and they stare at Green.

They stare at the dead body.

The body Bee made be dead. 

“Hell fuckin’ yeah, Blue!” Red whoops, popping hear head into Navigation to see Blue’s handiwork. Red walks over to Bee and places a hand on their shoulder. “Great job!”

“I—” Bee says, putting a hand on Red’s arm. “—am going to throw up.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Like _right now_.”

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit, okay, come on, let’s get you to a toilet, hot stuff.”

-

Red throws Bee’s arm over her shoulders and half drags half carries Bee back to her quarters, haphazardly punching in the code, rushing into the room and kicking open the door to the bathroom, setting Bee down on the floor next to the toilet. Red is speaking to Bee, but Bee can’t hear her, their mind too focused on how Green’s body looked so mangled, how his organs spilled out onto the floor.

“—Blue? Blue!—BEE!”

“Whuh,” Bee snaps out of it, and Red is there, crouched on the floor with them. 

“I said, can I take off your helmet? So you can, y’know. Vomit.” Red says worriedly. “I don’t know if this is a personal thing for Sragaths and I don’t wanna cross a line and—”

“You can,” Bee interrupts her as her stomach heaves again. “Oh god, please do.”

“Alrighty, lemme just, there we go,” Red disengages Bee’s helmet and Bee immediately bowls over the toilet, retching uselessly. Red’s hand comes to settle between Bee’s shoulderblades. “Better out than in, Bee.”

“You’re calling me—urgh,” Bee spits a useless amount of bile into the toilet. “You’re using my name.”

“Is it your name though?” Red continues rubbing Bee’s back. “Heard you say your name back there with Green. Uh, Bricksora—”

“Brxsyia.”

“Brikseeyuh?”

“Brxs—The x is—you have to press your secondary tongue flap against your teeth too.”

“Yeah, humans don’t got a secondary tongue flap.”

“You can just call me Bee then,” Bee says to the toilet bowl. “It’s my nickname. And I like how you say it.”

“It’s one syllable, how can I possibly say it any way special?” Red laughs softly.

“I dunno,” Bee lifts their head to look at Red. Her helmet is still on, so all Bee can see is their own reflection on the pane of Red’s helmet. Bee smiles, and they can see how dorky they look. “You just say it nice.”

“You’re beautiful,” Red says after a brief pause. “I didn’t get to say it earlier but now that I see you, well.” Slowly—slowly enough that Bee could pull back, but they don’t—Red presses her gloved hand to Bee’s cheek. The touch spreads warmth through Bee’s body, through Bee’s heart. “Now I get to say it. Because it’s true.”

“This isn’t my original form but. Thank you.” Bee says, awed at the fragility of this moment. The beauty of it.

Then they vomit into the toilet bowl miserably. 

“This suuuuuucks,” Bee says into the toilet bowl.

“You get used to it,” Red laughs, patting Bee’s back. “And by the way?”

“Yeah?”

“You can call me Robin.”

“Robin,” Bee tests the feeling of the name against their tongue. Past the bile and acid they're upchucking into the toilet, Bee likes the weight of her name around their lips. The cadence of it. The trust implicit in having it. “Thanks for letting me barf in your toilet, Robin.”

“No problem, Bee,” Robin says gently. “Now stop talking and get the rest of it out of your system.”

Bee follows, and it’s easy as breathing to do what she asks. 

-

It takes approximately twenty minutes for Bee’s stomach to finally calm down from the shock of seeing all the things inside of a human be outside of the body. When Bee’s better, Robin beckons them to lie down on her bed, and Robin sits on the floor next to the edge, watching over them. Her helmet is still on, but Bee doesn’t mind. The silence, amazingly, isn’t awkward. Bee feels at peace like this, on Robin’s bed, Robin at their side watchin with her soft gaze. Bee feels as if this moment could stretch out forever.

But it can’t.

Because Bee still has a mission to do.

Because Bee still has to figure out whether or not to kill Robin, after all of this.

“Robin?” Bee turns to face her. “Can we do questions again? I want to know more, but you deserve to know things back.”

“Yeah, go for it,” Robin says, seeming a little sad. “Might as well.”

“Why is this your job?”

“Family business,” Robin snorts humorlessly. “I come from a long line of mercenaries. Ever since I could, my parents have been training me to follow in their footsteps. My turn. How does a Sragath become an Executioner?”

“We’re assigned the role by Elder Sragaths based on our performance in whatever school we go to,” Bee answers. “Some Sragaths are diplomatic, so they get assigned to be Peacekeepers. Some Sragaths are craftspeople, so they’re sent out to help other people as Builders. That kind of thing. When I was in school, I never knew what I wanted to be. I just went through life hoping that maybe my Assignment would point me in the right direction, but now. Now I’m not so sure that Elder Sragaths know everything anymore. Not so sure that they should have the right to tell others what the best course of action is.” Bee sighs. “My turn. Have you ever killed an innocent?”

“I know you won’t believe me,” Robin says sadly. “But my parents hate me for being picky about jobs. For only choosing the jobs that have shitbags as targets. I don’t like being a killer, it’s just. The only thing I know. Do you like being a killer?”

“I don’t think so,” Bee says, shuddering at the memory of Green’s blood. “But it’s my duty. It’s what I have to do. Do you feel like that?”

“Yeah,” Robin says, looking down at the covers of her bed. “Do you think we deserve a choice in this?”

“I hope so,” Bee says quietly. So quietly, that they’re unsure if Robin hears them, but they’re sure that Robin can see how their eyes are starting to water. “Do you think choosing is the balanced thing to do? The just thing?”

“I think,” Robin says. “That balance and justice is a lot more complicated than any species in the whole universe can ever comprehend. Bee?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to kill me?” Robin smiles

“I don’t know yet,” Bee says, blinking away the tears so that they don’t fall. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I won’t be mad, if you do,” Robin reaches to hold Bee’s hand. “You’re just doing what you have to do because I was doing what I had to do.”

“I don’t want either of us to _have_ to do anything,” Bee squeezes Robin’s hand. “I want to tell my own story. Is that selfish?”

“No,” Robin says, rubbing her gloved thumb over Bee’s gloved knuckles. Layers and layers keep them apart, so why does Bee feel like Robin is so close? That Robin is closer than anybody has ever been? “I think that just makes you...well, you. What would your story be like?”

“Something softer,” Bee laughs wetly. “Something not so gory and terrible.”

“Are you sure you aren’t my soulmate?” Robin says. “Because that sure sounds like what I want as well.”

Robin still has her helmet on, but does that matter? Bee is filled with warmth, with sadness, with confusion and turmoil and a childish voice in their head that wants to know why things are so unfair when it’s a Sragath’s duty to uphold fairness. All these emotions, they churn and roil inside of Bee’s chest, and all they want to do, what they truly want to do, is simple.

They want to kiss Robin.

They prop themself up on their arm and lean in. Slowly. Slow enough that Robin can pull away if she wants to, but she doesn’t. She tilts her head up and—

The Skeld’s intercom blares an alarm, loud and screeching.

Bee jerks back, looking up at the speakers in the corner of the room.

White’s voice, tinny and calm, says over the intercom. “Green is dead. Emergency meeting at the Cafeteria.”

“Fuck,” Robin says, scrambling to stand. “He found the body.”

“That’s fine, right?” Bee gets off of the bed. “If he found the body, he’ll be the most suspicious one. We can just vote him off, two against one.”

“Something tells me—” Robin grabs Bee’s helmet from the floor and clicks it back shut over their head. “—that he won’t go easily.”

“Robin—”

“Bee,” Robin interrupts them. Her hands are on either side of Bee’s helmet and Robin steps closer, clinking their helmets together. “Whatever happens in this meeting? Look out for yourself first, okay?”

“Robin, what are you talking about, everything’s going to be fine—”

“It will be,” Robin says. “But if it doesn’t, I want you to get out of this fine. You have to.”

“I—” Bee’s heart is beating fast again, but not in fear. No, Bee’s heart is beating in determination. “No!”

Robin rears back. “No?”

“No, I’m!” Bee tries to find their words, tries to sift through the glob of emotions in their chest to find out what it is _they_ want. Nobody else. “I’m tired of _having_ to do anything! We’re both getting out of this, that’s what I want, and whatever I do with you after White is dead—that’s! That’s going to be something I choose for me. Nobody else.”

Robin looks at Bee. Through the helmets, emotions don’t come through, but Robin nods.

“Okay,” Robin says softly. 

“Okay,” Bee says.

They extend their hand.

“Come with me?” Bee asks.

Robin hesitates, and Bee knows the feeling, but her hand reaches forward and takes Bee’s.

“Of course,” Robin says.

They walk out of Robin’s quarters, hands clasped together. 

A knife and a Sragath that holds her.

It's showtime. 

-

White is waiting for them both in the cafeteria, sitting at the table, a pistol in his hand, trained Bee and Robin. Bee doesn’t hesitate though. They just squeeze Robin’s hand and lets her go as they both walk to the table and take a seat. 

“White,” Bee says. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Cut the bullshit,” White says, calm, as always. “It wasn’t me, so it was either of you, and frankly, with how close you two are, it doesn’t matter which one.”

Robin says, “Why not just kill us then?”

“I kill one of you and the other kills me,” White says. “I only have one gun, and the time it takes for me to shoot again is enough time for me to lose.”

“So we’re at an impasse, then,” Bee says. “Where do we go from here?”

“We go my way,” White says, standing and pointing his gun at Robin. Robin’s heart rate stays steady, but Bee’s does not. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Blue. You’re going to walk over to that maintenance hatch there, open it, and eject yourself into space. If you don’t, I’ll kill Red.”

“Fuck you, you can’t make them do that,” Robin snarls at White, but Bee places a hand on her shoulder. 

“Yes he can,” Bee says softly, turning to Robin. “I’m not watching you die.”

“I’m not watching you _get ejected into space_ ,” Robin protests, but Bee is already standing, going for the maintenance hatch. “Bee, don’t!”

“Robin?” Bee turns, their hand hovering over the lever to open the maintenance hatch. “Can I ask you one more question?”

“Bee, don’t do this, please—”

“Do you trust me?” Bee asks earnestly.

It’s this question that will make up their mind on everything they need to do.

It’s this question that will finally make everything clear. 

It’s this question that will end this story.

“Of course, Bee,” Robin says, her voice broken like a jagged blade. “Of course I trust you.”

“Thank you,” Bee smiles, and they put their hand on the lever. 

-

NARRATOR: Dear listener, what Brxsyia “Bee” Bl’forza attempts to do in this moment is something they have never attempted to do in their entire life. And this fact _needs context_ so [clears throat].

Sragaths can shift both themselves and anything they touch. Sragaths need to train to control this ability of course. Young Sragaths can only shift themselves and only as they practice can they gain the power to shift other objects. Only Sragaths chosen by the Elders are allowed to incorporate the transitive property of contact into shifting. What does this mean? Well, in simplest terms, everything is, in one way or another, in contact with everything else. You touch a table, but the table is also touching the floor, so in theory, you are touching some aspect of the floor. 

Philosophically, this whole transitive property thing is a bit of a mindfuck, but it was a mindfuck Bee was willing to take on. 

And so they put their hand on the lever and they do what Sragath’s do best.

Shift.

-

Bee pulls. In the split second their hand makes contact with the lever, they think of their body no longer like a body, but instead as a thread connected to the entire being of the Skeld. Bee pulls. They pull metal and wiring, they pull plastic and alloy, they pull at the space of the ship where White is seated, and they release.

Everything surrounding White zips forward in a blur of motion, parts of the ship groaning and creaking as, in that exact instant, the material of the ship morphs and changes into horrid, sharp spikes surging forward with all the strength Bee has in their body.

All the spikes pierce through White’s body all at the same time; one through his wrist, seven through his chest and torso, and one, the thickest, impaling him straight through the helmet.

White convulses, once, twice, before he goes still, the pistol dropping from his hand. 

Bee falls to the floor, exhausted, and Robin runs to them immediately, cradling Bee in her arms.

“Bee? Bee, can you hear me? Bee, are you okay?” Robin’s voice is frantic, wind chimes in a storm indeed, and the thought makes Bee laugh.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Bee says giddily, placing a hand on the side of Robin’s helmet. “I just feel like I need like, a several long day nap, is all.”

“You crazy bastard,” Robin says, her voice sounding wet, as if she’d been crying. “You fucking—I didn’t even know Sragaths could _do_ that.”

“Technically, we’re not supposed to. It’s kind of a super big sin, in our culture but like,” Bee shrugs. “Whatever. Fuck em.”

“Fuck em?” Robin’s voice is a bit higher pitched. “You committed a Sragath sin just to save my sorry ass?”

“I’ve decided,” Bee says. “That I don’t want to kill you. I want to be with you for a bit longer. For a lot longer.”

“Holy fucking shit,” Robin laughs. “Is this your way of asking me out?”

“I guess? It’s a question,” Bee disengages Robin’s helmet, pulls it off, and throws it to the side. “What’s your answer?”

“My answer,” Robin follows Bee’s action, gently, removing Bee’s own helmet and throwing it over her shoulder. “Is yes.”

Bee knows that the human thing to do is kiss Robin, but right now, they want to do things their way. They lean forward and press their forehead against Robin’s, feeling the simple warmth of her body against theirs.

“Is this a Sragath kiss?” Robin asks.

“It is,” Bee smiles. “We can do it your way later but, for now, is this okay?”

“This is very okay, Bee,” Robin sighs in the way that reminds Bee of warm creatures in the morning sunlight. 

“Good,” Bee places their hands on Robin’s face. 

Bee breathes in.

Bee breathes out.

In their mind, no more “have tos” or “must dos”. In their heart no more rapid beats or fear or embarrassment. In their hands, a person Bee wants with all of their being. No missions, no assignments, no nothing.

Just this.

Two beings intertwined with each other.

A page of a new story.

-

NARRATOR: So. That’s how this all started and—wow, okay, this recording is an hour long, hoo boy. 

[Sounds of shuffling. Another voice comes in, the same voice from earlier.]

UNKNOWN: Bee? Are you still recording?

NARRATOR: Just finishing up, Robin!

UNKNOWN: Oh my god, if this is how long episode one is, how the fuck are you going to get through the rest of our shenannigans.

NARRATOR: Admittedly, I’m now realizing that audio may not be the best medium for this. Maybe I should just write it as a blog?

UNKNOWN: A blog nobody will read?

NARRATOR: A record. For us. For our story.

UNKNOWN: You are too sentimental, why do I love you?

NARRATOR: Because I’m a super awesome law breaking Sragath who ran away with you to the stars and also I’m hot as fuuuuuuuck.

UNKNOWN: [laughs]. Okay, okay, you got me there. 

NARRATOR: Robin?

UNKNOWN: Yeah, Bee?

NARRATOR: I love you.

UNKNOWN: I love you too. 

NARRATOR: I am never getting on another Skeld in my entire life though.

UNKNOWN: Babe, listen, we want a bigger ship, and Skelds are the cheapest option, it’s pragmatic, and, dare I say, kind of romantic.

NARRATOR: We killed people!

UNKNOWN: Romantically!—

[Sounds of bickering getting softer and softer. Holorecorder automatically shuts off.]

**Author's Note:**

> title from This Love Isn’t Crazy by Carly Rae Jepsen. 
> 
> [here’s how Bee and Robin look like under their helmets.](https://actualbird.tumblr.com/post/630143393430994944/among-us-ocs-for-a-fanfic-im-working-on-bluered)
> 
> im [actualbird](http://actualbird.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! come say hi over there or leave me a comment!!!


End file.
